


No, please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!

by lovingangelindisguise



Category: Scream (Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Blood and Gore, Bloodplay, Breaking and Entering, Choking, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hair-pulling, Halloween, Hellraiser references lmfao, Kinktober, Knifeplay, Masks, Movie: Scream (1996), Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Submissive Character, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Humiliation, Violence, Violent Sex, billy loomis - Freeform, here begins the fucked up ness, i literally have like two more i'm starting lmao, this is my first fic for kinktober
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26609521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovingangelindisguise/pseuds/lovingangelindisguise
Summary: Your eyes meet, and after minutes or seconds you finally break the silence:“You’re fucking crazy.”Billy just laughs and looks away from you to stare up at the ceiling.“I prefer the term psychotic.”(Dark fic warning!)
Relationships: Billy Loomis/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 116





	No, please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this story! As always, please leave kudos and comments if you like ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

You rush downstairs, nearly tripping over the last step as you shrug on a denim jacket. It's ten minutes to seven, and Billy will be there any minute to pick you up for your third official date. He suggested you go see a scary movie, and of course you had eagerly agreed—only realizing afterwards the implications to being in the privacy of a dark theater. Fuck it, he’ll probably be too caught up in the movie to try anything anyway.

You do a once over in the mirror after slipping on a pair of black sneakers and then check your jacket pockets to make sure the house keys, cherry Chapstick, and emergency money are there. Check.

A car horn honks outside, and you hurry to the front door, stomach now in knots with the anticipation of seeing him.

“Bye mom!” You call over your shoulder just before the door shuts, and then skip down the steps to where Billy is leaning against his black Camaro that's parked crookedly in the driveway. It's already cold as death outside, only a week before Halloween and the chill of Winter hangs heavy in the air. It makes you pull your jacket tighter around yourself.

“Hey gorgeous.” Billy gives you one of his signature lopsided smiles, one that has your heart skipping a beat, and then walks around to open the passenger side door for you. Apparently, chivalry isn’t dead.

“Hey… Thanks for picking me up...” You can’t help being shy around him, even with how much you try to pep talk yourself into being confident before meeting up.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.” He replies, before closing the car door with a slam and then coming around to the driver side. Inside the car is warm, thankfully, and you free your hands from your jacket pockets to hold them out in front of the radiator.

Empty soda cans roll around at your feet as he backs out of the driveway, and the flickering candles of the Jack-o-lanterns on the front porch blur to nothing when he speeds away towards the theater downtown.

“You excited? I heard this movie’s extra gory.” He has his left wrist draped lazily over the steering wheel now and leans back in the seat. Heavy metal plays from the stereo, filling the gaps in conversation with ominous noise.

“I can’t wait! I’m like, obsessed with the Hellraiser movies, so I bet this one is gonna be just as good as the rest.” You're practically bouncing with excitement and Billy smirks, nodding in approval.

“That’s my girl.” He reaches across the center console and places his free hand over your bare thigh, where your skirt has ridden up. The touch sends an unexpected shiver through your body and unconsciously your thighs clench together, making you blush deeply. He gives a light squeeze in response, and you swear your cheeks are going to light on fire from embarrassment. His fingers are so long they almost wrap around your entire thigh, and you can't help that your eyes keep drifting down to his hand though you're trying hard to ignore it.

The most you've done together is makeout when your mom isn’t home, and you knew that at some point he would be wanting more. Of course. But lack of experience makes you hesitant. All of your knowledge about _that_ comes from shit you’ve read in books and one time watching a dirty movie you found in your mom’s dresser drawer.

Casually you tug down your skirt a little, hoping that he'll take that as a sign. Though if he does, you aren’t sure because his hand stays firmly on your leg for the rest of the car ride.

Billy pays for both of your tickets and some popcorn, and then leads the way to some seats off towards a back corner of the theater—which is surprisingly empty for it being the weekend before Halloween. Once the previews are finished, the theater darkens for the movie, and you set the popcorn aside so that you can curl up against him. With your head resting on his shoulder, you nuzzle against his neck a little, breathing in deeply. He always smells so good, like smoke and another heady scent that's uniquely his own.

The movie definitely delivers in the gore department. You're over an hour in now, and as you watch you can feel Billy shifting slightly beside you. Particularly when one of the characters onscreen starts to gouge holes in a guy’s face with her claws and peel his skin back till there's only flesh and blood. At that scene, Billy’s hand abruptly and, almost roughly, finds your thigh again— which makes you practically jump out of your own skin in shock.

Your brow furrows in confusion over his reaction. There’s no way he's freaked out by the movie, but you can’t figure out why he's acting so strange. After a while you choose to attest his antsy behavior to the uncomfortable seats and focus your attention back on the movie. That is until his thumb begins rubbing circles against the outer side of your thigh.

You try to stay still, and keep your head on his shoulder, unsure of how to react. But the warmth from his hand feels good, and the slow movement is hypnotizing as you stare at the violence playing in front of you with glazed over eyes. Unconsciously, your knees fall apart.

Taking that as an invitation, his hand begins to creep a little higher and your eyes slip closed, the touch causing heat to pool low in your belly. Your bottom lip is between your teeth, trying to hold back any small noise that might escape. When his fingers brush against the damp front of your lacey panties you gasp in surprise and squeeze your thighs shut around his hand.

Billy laughs quietly above your head, wiggling his hand between your legs teasingly to try and get you to relax the vice like grip. You sit up straight in your seat, breathing heavily, while onscreen some unlucky guy gets beheaded by a barbed spike that Pinhead has pierce his throat, coming clear out the other side. They spare no expense with the way his flesh tears apart and bleeds in thick rivulets down his chest. Much to your surprise, you find yourself rocking against Billy’s hand slightly as you watch, still gripping onto his wrist with your hands— though now it seems more to keep him in place than get him to stop.

“Feel good, baby?” His voice is low and gravely beside your ear and you shudder at the sound. You can feel your arousal soaking through your panties and sticking to your inner thighs now, and the clothes you're wearing feel too warm; body heating up unbearably the longer his hand stays between your legs. You nod timidly in response, and in your peripherals, you can see him smirk.

“Well, then why don’t you spread those pretty legs and let me make you feel even better?” He whispers, nuzzling against the sensitive skin of your neck just beneath your ear.

You can’t help but moan aloud at his words, and then clamp your hand over your mouth in horror, looking around to make sure no one has heard and is running to tattle on you both. The few people there remain motionless, but that doesn't stop your heart from hammering in your chest at the thought that they might know what's going on just a few rows back.

It feels like only seconds have passed, but before you can make the choice to answer his question the credits begin rolling and the lights in the theater slowly brighten again. Billy tsks at you teasingly and then pulls his hand free from your grasp, all with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Too late,’ he stands up and stretches his arms overhead with a satisfied sigh, “you ready?”

You glare up at him, only earning yourself laughter in response. On wobbly legs you finally stand up, smoothing down your skirt before shuffling out from the row of seats and into the lobby.

Once outside, the cold night air is welcome to your hot skin, and you shrug out of your jacket, hoping that might help cool the heat that's still aching between your legs. It doesn’t. The theater felt stuffier than you realized, and you breathe in deeply the fresh air. Billy seems perky walking beside you, and quite frankly it makes you want to slap him across the face. Why the hell would he get you all worked up like that and then not follow through? You huff annoyedly, trailing behind a little as you walk to the car. Two can play at that game. Blue balls are definitely in his future.

Once inside the car, Billy turns up Tool on the radio before peeling out and speeding downtown back towards your house. The old buildings pass in a blur, illuminated by the yellow streetlights, while the vibrating bass of the music settles a steady thrumming beat in your ears and between your thighs. At least it keeps you from hearing the pounding of your heart. After a moment, you lean forward and turned the radiator off before settling back against the window and staring out at the passing houses all decorated for Halloween.

“Warm?” Billy asks, and you can hear the smug smile in his voice, only furthering your irritation.

“A bit, yeah.”

“What’d you think of the movie?”

“I don’t know. I was a bit distracted.” You roll your eyes at your reflection in the window when he just laughs at your response.

“You seemed like you were enjoying it.”

“Well, I probably would have enjoyed it more if I wasn’t so distracted.” You snap, finally turning towards him.

“Watch your tone, sweetheart. You're too pretty to be so bitchy.” He's still smirking, and you know that he's mocking you, but when he returns your gaze something darker flickers in his expression. It was almost… predatory, and the realization makes your stomach twist— with excitement or fear you aren’t sure.

“Sorry…” You mutter in defeat, sitting back in the seat with your hands between your knees.

“Good girl.”

Once he pulls up into the driveway of your house, he gets out of the car and comes around to open the passenger side door again, then wrapping you up in his arms and squeezing you so tight you're laughing and have to fight him off because you can’t breathe.

He walks you up the steps and then you both stare at each other for a moment in silence, until you shyly look down at your shoes, unsure of what to say. Billy just smiles and gives you a quick kiss goodnight before walking back to his car. You stand on the porch and wave goodbye till the black Camaro disappears down the street.

It's late, so you're quiet going inside since your parents are probably already asleep. After toeing off your sneakers you hurry up the stairs and into your room, closing the door and leaning your back against it with a sigh of relief. What a night.

A hot shower is the best cure you can think of at the moment. So, you strip from your clothes, toss them in the hamper, and then head into the private bathroom that adjoins the bedroom. Once the water heats up, you step beneath the scalding hot stream and sigh in relief as tension eases from your body. It's easier to think in the peace of a hot shower, and your thoughts immediately go to Billy. Why did he suddenly decided to try and feel you up? It felt so random. But even that doesn't bother you as much as how your body had reacted to the combination of seeing horror and feeling pleasure. Just the thought sends a chill up your spine. Feeling his long fingers pressed against you, seeing the blood flowing on screen, you bite your lip over the memory. What the fuck is wrong with you?

You're too tired to care, and your hand starts to snake its way down your stomach and lower. Even with all the water pouring over your naked skin you can still feel the obvious arousal dripping from between your thighs. Slowly, you part the smooth folds and begin rubbing circles against your sensitive clit, biting back a moan. Your body had been longing for touch, but it still doesn't compare to how it feels when he touches you, and with a frustrated sigh you reach back and turn off the water.

You step out of the shower and grab a fluffy white towel off the rack, drying your long black hair as best you can with just a towel— before wrapping the towel around your body and walking back out to your bedroom.

The room is freezing, and you gasp in surprise. Is the goddamned heater broken or something? You curse silently, shivering as you walk over to the dresser. That's when you notice the curtains billowing slightly, and upon walking over, discover that the window is open.

“That’s weird…” You mutter aloud to yourself and close the window. You don’t remember ever opening the window, especially with it being literally forty degrees out, but figure maybe your mom had done it. After all, she is always yelling at you about your room being too stuffy.

You toss the towel in the hamper with the rest of your clothes. Then pulling on a pair of black polka dot panties and an old band t-shirt, along with some fuzzy socks, before hitting the light switch and jumping into bed. The house is quiet, except for the faint whirring of the heater, and you stare at the ceiling in the dark for awhile, knowing overthinking will exhaust you at some point. You hope that Billy won’t be mad over you being annoyed after the date. With a sigh, you turn on your side and pull the covers up over your head, deciding that you’ll apologize whenever you see him next.

Finally, your eyelids begin to droop. There's a quiet rustling somewhere in the room, but you're too tired to care, and it isn’t long until the warm sanctuary of bed finally lulls you to sleep.

* * *

A hard pressure across your mouth and the sharp stab of fingers digging into your cheeks jolts you awake, eyes snapping open to find a masked figure leaning over you. A choked scream dies off in your throat as fingers dig harder into your skin, leaving definite bruises.

What light there is in the room illuminates the haunting face of a white Halloween mask, mouth gaping in a silent scream and black eyes gazing soullessly down at you. All you can hear is your heart pounding, and blood rushing in your ears as adrenaline courses through your body. You jerk in surprise when he yanks back the covers and climbs on top of you, straddling your hips, and that’s when you see it; the cold shine of steel. The blade is long, a hunting knife you think, and swallow thickly when he brings it up to your eyelevel.

As soon as he moves to raise the blade you start to thrash, screaming muffled against his gloved hand. But he doesn’t bring the blade down in one life ending motion. No. He simply reaches up and rips the mask off, revealing a very familiar face. Tears well in your eyes both in relief and in fear, and he tosses the mask across the room.

“Hey sweetcheeks,” he smirks down at you, still keeping his hand firmly over your mouth “I felt kinda bad about how we left things earlier and… I wanted to make it up to you.”

You're panting heavily through your nose, watching the blade in your peripherals as he traced the tip along your cheek, pressing barely enough to leave a subtle sting of pain. This can’t be happening. At least that’s what you're telling yourself over and over again.

“But if we’re gonna play, you’re gonna have to keep quiet. Don’t want mommy or daddy hearing, now do we?” With that he brings the blade down right against your throat, pressing hard enough that you can feel your pulse against the razor sharp edge, “think you can be a good girl and keep your fucking mouth shut?”

You nod frantically, tears spilling down the sides of your temples and into your hair. Slowly, he removes his hand from over your mouth, and you take in a shuddering breath that only makes your adrenaline spike. Your whole body shaking. Billy wastes no time in wrapping a fistful of your hair around his gloved hand, and then yanking you upright so you’re pressed against his chest. You have to stifle a cry from the shooting pain in your scalp, and he just chuckles at your reaction.

“Take your shirt off.” He releases your hair so that you actually can, and with trembling hands you grab the hem of your band tee and slowly pull it overhead, discarding it over the side of the bed. He moves off the bed and then grabs you by the upper arm, pulling you over to him so your sitting with your legs dangling off the edge.

“Mmm, knew you’d have pretty tits.” He drags the knife blade between your bare breasts, and you shudder at the cold metal that kisses your skin with searing affection. There’s small bubbles of blood there and he uses his thumb to smear them across your skin, the leather glove a warm contrast. He drags the knife lower, then sliding it flat beneath the hip band of your panties before turning it blade up and pulling till the fabric snaps, cutting the silence. He repeats the motion to the other side, and now the only thing keeping the fabric against you is your thighs pressed together.

“Wh-why are you doing th-this?” You stutter out, panic making your breathing shallow.

“What’d you mean? I’m just picking up where we left off earlier, baby.” He drops the knife on the bed beside your thigh, and you eye it briefly, but as if reading your thoughts— he grabs you hard by the throat. His palm digs into your windpipe, making you gasp for air, and he nudges your knees apart with his legs which causes your ruined panties to finally fall away. Removing the last defense you had.

He leans down, the ends of his now disheveled hair tickling your cheek, and you try to look away, but he squeezes your throat warningly.

“Keep your fucking eyes on me.”

Your eyes snap back to his, mind reeling in panic when his free hand grazes the top of your thigh and then dips between. Your legs spread out of instinct, and a shuddering sigh leaves your lips when his fingers brush against your swollen clit. Your fucking soaked. You could feel it the whole time. And while you’re still not sure of your bodies fucked up and backwards interpretation of pleasure, your mind is starting to tune out of the situation and regress to some dark corner that you didn’t even know existed.

“Huh. Guess I was right, you really did enjoy the movie.” Billy gives a short laugh in disbelief and then brings the middle finger of the glove up to his mouth. You can see it glistening with the evidence of your arousal, and without taking his eyes off you he licks it clean. The sight makes your cunt feel slippery, aching now for the culmination of whatever fucked up plan he has. He takes the tip of the glove between his teeth and then yanks it off in one fluid motion, now bringing his bare hand back down between your legs.

You moan in relief, and you can feel the sound vibrate against his hand that's still wrapped around your throat. He rubs sloppy circles against your clit, before sliding his finger knuckle deep. You wince at the intrusion, and how different it feels to have a finger other than your own inside you. But after a few thrusts the discomfort is replaced by pleasure, feeling the raw drag of his bare skin against your slick walls making each spark of pleasure burn brighter. You whine in your throat and with a frustrated growl he shoves you backwards against the bed, still keeping his fingers at a steady pace.

“Better fucking keep quiet.”

“F-fuhhck you…” Your voice is a hoarse groan, but he still hears you, and without warning the hand that had been around your throat disappears and comes down hard across your face. The impact makes your cunt clench around his fingers, and fresh tears blur your vision.

“Whores like you don’t get to talk back, and I swear if you do one more fucking time, I’m gonna cut your tongue out.” He shoves a second finger in now, and you squirm in his grip, biting your lip not to cry out. “Now what do you say?”

“I’m s-sorry-ah!” The end of your apology is cut off by a gasping moan when his thumb begins rubbing your clit as he fucks his two fingers in and out of your pulsing cunt. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and your thighs clench around his wrist, trying to pull him in deeper. As if he can feel you nearing the end he pulls away, flipping you over onto your stomach and then pulling your hips up so that your ass is in the air. In your rage you almost slip and call him every curse word you could think of for denying your release, but the thought of getting your tongue cut out makes you keep your mouth shut.

“Hope you weren’t saving yourself for anyone…” You can hear the sarcasm in his voice and feel the bed dip as he climbs up behind you. Panic kicks in again at the realization of what's coming, but as soon as you move to get away— he has you by your hair again and yanks your head back till your spine is arched painfully.

With his free hand you can hear him unzipping his pants and jolt forward at the feeling when his cock slaps against your inner thigh, whimpering in pain at how hard it makes him pull on your hair when you jerk forward. He guides his cock to your entrance, cursing under his breath at how you're literally dripping on him, and then slaps the head against your clit a few times. You can’t fight the way your hips sway back towards him at the little shockwaves of pleasure, as if begging him to just fuck you already. And that is exactly what he does.

There is no care in the way he forces his cock inside you, the searing burn of it make a ragged moan escape your throat. You’ve never had something this thick and long inside of you, and it feels like he's literally jabbing at your fucking organs. The feeling makes your brain short circuit, especially when he starts thrusting without even giving you a chance to adjust.

“Fuck… Been thinking about what it’d feel like to be inside this tight little cunt since the day I saw you…” He's breathless, still keeping a firm grip on your hair as he fucks you at a steady pace. The sound of skin slapping, and your quiet moans fill the room, and the smell of sex is intoxicating. It feels like your cunt is gushing around him, dripping down your thighs and smearing across your ass whenever his hips snap against you.

Pure bliss is running you ragged, and you're limp as he impales you on his cock—helplessly held up by only the grip he has on your hair and the hand that holds your hip as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“Oh god oh god, I-I’m gonna cum!” You practically sob, your whole body tensing up, though that only spurs him on to fuck you harder. You can feel his cock twitch inside you, and your whole body aches from the way he forces your back to bend, but the moment he lets go of your hair and reaches between your legs to rub sloppily and too hard at your clit. It sets your whole world on fire.

You have to bite the blankets to muffle your scream as your orgasm wracks your whole body, your cunt spasming rhythmically around him so tight he can barely even move inside you anymore. Your limbs shake, liquid pleasure shooting up your spine and making your vision go white till finally your whole body collapses.

The final tremors of your orgasm force his forth and with a stuttering curse and a groan he comes buried deep inside you, finally collapsing on top of you. You're both a fucking mess, sweaty and panting, delirious. After a while he finally rolls off of you and onto his back on the bed, and you look up from where your face had been smashed into the mattress. You can feel his cum dripping from between your legs, though the soreness hasn’t settled in yet… you still feel the warm afterglow of the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

Your eyes meet, and after minutes or seconds you finally break the silence:

“You’re fucking crazy.”

Billy just laughs and looks away from you to stare up at the ceiling.

“I prefer the term _psychotic_.”


End file.
